Pappu can't dance, but Pappu sure can feed

Much to my wife's dismay I've started calling our new born daughter Pappu. Riya, my wife, had beautifully named her Shaayari, after which my Pappu would ruffle even the most ebullient of spirits.

There are many reasons for this spontaneous bit of labelling on my part. Firstly the name is in the air, Pappu pass ho gaya, Pappu can't dance etc. Then there's her quizzical expression for starters. Her eyes expand like the universe and then gape wondrously at nothing at all. Only a Pappu would do that I reasoned. My wife says she's got my eyes vengefully and she may be right, but that may only prove that the world comprises many Pappus. Then, of course is her arbitrary clucking, a bit like a high pitched hapless stammering Shahrukh Khan in reverse to paint you a sonic description. Who else but a Pappu would do that. And then there's the clincher, her voluminous, guzzling, appetite, a veritable suckling, bottomless pit. One look at the heavenly peace that her satiated palate gives her confirms that she's most certainly a Pappu.

I hope she proves me wrong soon and develops beautifully into the poetic name she's been given. I hope she soars in her imagination feeding on the best this world has to offer but for now Pappu can't dance but Pappu sure can feed....saala!